I will NOT fail Arts and Humanities SIMMONS
by ReeReeWithAngst
Summary: Against all odds Leopold Fitz has missed a crucial assignment needed to succeed at S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. And without knowing why the assignment exists, he dives right into the only acceptable project left.


**This is my first Academy FitzSimmons fanfic. I think you'll pick up on the plot rather quickly. I'm basing the biochem stuff on my vast knowledge from three days of High School chem.**

* * *

It shouldn't be an Academy requirement. It shouldn't be mandatory, it shouldn't even be optional. Leo had nothing against enjoying a little entertainment now and then but you shouldn't have to entertain for a grade.

"How did I not know about this Simmons? How did this possibly go over my head?" He was pacing their makeshift lab space (Her room, his was too messy), ranting as she worked on a biochem experiment. He was supposed to be working on it to, or at least his own version of it, but he was too upset to work, and all their teachers had come to expect the two to work together even on individual projects. And though he had nothing against expanding his mind, in this troubled state it was best he let the girl who was better at biochem to do it.

"You've been distracted lately Leo-" She tried to comfort and calm. She knew if he blew a gasket, as he was likely to do, she'd have to go make them both some tea so he could settle his emotions. This had been quite a shock.

"But you knew about it! You met the project requirement! Why didn't you tell me?"

" _Fitz,_ " She began firmly.

"I honestly thought you knew, if I thought you hadn't completed your A&H project I would have reminded you." He flopped down on a chair in her dorm room that her mother had donated. It was yellow with a pretty floral print, which he thought suited her, and was his favorite chair.

"I know its just!" His hand found his hair gripped it, and she had to take off her lab gloves and wash her hands just so she could go over and untangle his little fist from the mess of curls he never brushed.

"Don't rip your hair out over it Fitz it's just a silly assignment. You're good at assignments." She encouraged, returning to their current assignment. He came over to watch and she insistently pointed at the lab safety equipment, which really, the silly boy should have been wearing all along.

"No one told me about this assignment!"

"It was in the brochure-" She said pointedly as the experiment continued.

"But no one told me!" He whined.

"Did you not read the brochure?"

"Uh, no sorry Miss I do everything perfectly, I did not read _the brochure_. I think I lost that thing..." He muttered, flusteredly undoing and redoing the buttons to the lab coat, even though this particular chemical mixture was better suited for a safety apron.

"You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached." She chided, delicately teasing the mixture with a glass stirring rod. Soon he was back on the rant.

"Who comes up with this stuff? I needed a PhD to get in the door of this place, it shouldn't matter whether I can paint a stupid picture or sing a stupid song."

"Is everything stupid now? The lab is no place for negativity." He stepped over the line of duct tape that separated "the lab" and her dorm. Then he took off the lab clothes angrily and sat back in the chair.

"Wash your hands before you touch my mum's furniture!" She called over her shoulder, nearly completing their assignment. He was back in a minute spelling like aloe soap, the A&H project still on his mind.

"I don't even know what I'm going to do, uh, what did you do again?"

"I painted a picture of a vase of sunflowers." She said matter of fact, glancing over at him, a little bit alarmed (and a little intrigued) that a look of mischief had entered his blue eyes.

"Would it, hypothetically, be possible, to borrow a certain picture of sunflowers in the near future?" She was aghast.

"Leopold Fitz you wouldn't dare be suggesting _cheating_ would you?!" She was nearly ready to throw the acidic solution at her friend and partner for such a horrific suggestion. She would not be part of any bad girl shenanigans. Not now and not ever.

"O-of course not Simmons, I was j-joking." He stuttered.

"Put the beaker tongs down." That part sounded a little worried for his life, as she really had been about to dose him in their assignment. She set the parts down and took off her gloves once more, as well as the rest of her ensemble as the experiment could wait. She washed her hands with the aloe soap and hugged him from behind.

"Fitz, you'll do okay. Like I said, it's just one project, you'll think of something and then the whole thing will be over."

"Promise?" He muttered, for once letting his guard down and showing how scared he really was of failing.

"Of course." She said cheerily.

"Now I will go make us some tea while you search the school website for opportunities to get A&H credit." She ordered gently. He nodded and pulled out his phone. It was getting late into the semester and as Jemma made their favorite tea and poured it into their mugs, the ones he'd bought at the Academy bookstore, he found only _one_ option. When she returned his fair skin was pastier than usual.

"I found something." He mumbled.

"That's great!" She cheered, handing over the mug with a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo.

"No." He murmured, taking a sip, not as comforted as he was supposed to be.

"What is it?" She asked, maybe not as concerned as she was supposed to be.

"A play."

"What play?"

"The Scottish play." He informed.

"Oh Mac-" He nearly spilled his tea clamping a hand over her mouth. She pushed it away.

"Don't say it out loud." He warned.

"Oh Fitz..." She muttered exasperatedly.

"That whole curse thing is a bunch of hogwash."

"If I'm going to be in a performance of the Scottish play then you will call it the Scottish play for the entirety I am in the Scottish play." He insisted, taking a long sip from his drink. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, but you don't have to be in it if you're going to be scared to death."

"I will NOT fail Arts and Humanities _SIMMONS."_ He nearly shouted. She stepped back.

"You might need more tea. Or sleep." He nodded. He would need sleep, for his audition.

* * *

She tried to be supportive for her best friend.

She _tried_. It wasn't easy, since he was being a pain. He still wouldn't say Macbeth, oh yeah, **MACBETH MACBETH MACBETH MACBETH MACBETH MACBETH**. Where was his stupid Jinx? Nowhere. Because it didn't exist. Scotsmen... Ugh. But he had a part in the play, playing _"Son to Macduff."_ He walked around muttering, "As birds do, mother." and, "Was my father a traitor, mother?" Hearing his lines sometimes made Jemma's heartache, knowing that it might be something that Fitz might actually say to his mother.

"What is a traitor?" She'd called his mum and told her about the three shows, Friday, Saturday and Sunday matinee, but the woman would probably not be able to make it.

"Who must hang them?" He rehearsed lines over and over. For someone who seemed less than excited about doing Arts and Humanities, he was getting very into doing Arts and Humanities.

* * *

When the performance was over Sunday afternoon she went up to him and presented a bouquet of roses.

"You did fantastic." She encouraged, he blushed and faked a bow, taking the flowers.

"Thanks Jemma." He'd known she'd been at ever performance, and that kind made him a little giddy.

"No problem. I heard people from operations were here." She added with a smile.

"Don't listen to rumors." He teased. She shrugged with a smirk.

"Alright. But really, that was an amazing performance of _Macbeth._ " He never forgave her.

* * *

 _He has kill'd me, mother:_

 _Run away, I pray you!_

 **AND SCENE.**


End file.
